America Sleeps
by Saya Kurobara
Summary: America's daughter, NCR, is trying to instill the values that her lost father left behind, while cleaning up his house for the returns she's so sure he'll make. Rating may go up for violence, and because war never changes.
1. Prologue

War, war never changes.

From the beginning of time, when man picked up his first weapon of rock and bone, war has been waged in the name of anything from religion, to justice, from nationalism, to the desire to become one.

In the year 2077 the world was plunged into chaos when the atomic fear was made real. But it was not the end of the nations as many had predicted. Instead it was only the violent birth of many new.

When Vault 15 was opened, establishing the village of Shady Sands, the vault dwellers first laid their eyes on the young girl. What a child was doing alone in the wastes outside of the vault they couldn't decipher, but her bright blue eyes, red hair, and charisma made them instantly decide to raise her within the community.

As years passed, and the small farming community joined with several other communities, becoming the New California Republic, the girl grew, and grew stronger. No one knew that Callie Jones was the young nation's spirit. All she knew was that she wanted to make her father, Alfred Jones, proud.

Decades passed, and what had been the American southwest united under the flag of Republic. She was a nation dedicated to the old-world values of democracy and the rule of law. But as her nation grew so did her citizen's needs….

**********  
Author's Note: I'm sorry to anyone who may have been reading the other story I was writing. I haven't been able to continue because my muse for that one took a nasty fall. Guess she needs new wings.

This was inspired by a statement made in the "Lonesome Road" DLC for **Fallout: New Vegas.** The statement is made by Ulysses through ED-E.


	2. Chapter 1: You'll know it when it happen

**Chapter 1: You'll Know It When It Happens**

The young woman stood on the top of the Hoover Dam Visitor's Center, taking the evening watch. It had been six years since she and the cowboy from New Vegas had made the agreement for her people to guard the dam. The fires burned brightly across the River. This confirmed that another, younger nation was growing across the Colorado. She could feel the threat that these men posed to the safety of her citizens.

The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with her combat knife. The sound of hundreds of feet pounding the earth filled the air. She looked through the binoculars, confirming the suspicions that had been raised. She sounded the alarm before jumping down from the roof of the squat building.

The troopers were digging into position. The foreign soldiers, Legionnaires she had heard them called, dressed in leather and sports gear were starting to storm the dam. She smirked, knowing that once her people were blockading the path, they would be immovable until the order was given.

She stared through the scope of her Marksman carbine, the lenses magnifying the image of the recruits. They seemed to be carrying little more than tribal weapons and radios.

Her own radio receiver was in her ear, waiting for Colonel Oliver's order. She took aim at the Legionary veterans behind the ranks of recruits.

Fighting erupted on the dam. The troopers were holding them in place. "Now!" As the order resounded in her ear, her finger squeezed the trigger. With each squeeze of the trigger another enemy soldier fell.

Eventually the leader of the opposing force, Joshua Graham she thought she heard him called, ordered the rear guard, clearly older soldiers, to advance to overwhelm the men. His commands seemed to fill his men with the rage it seemed clear he felt himself.

"First Recon and Rangers start leading the way." She was swift in moving as were the men and women that had been brought to the ranks of the NCR's finest. The rangers, lonesome in their duties spread out while the First Recon Snipers went off in pairs. She was always more like the rangers, a lonely cowboy.

The path from the Dam to Boulder City was treacherous, but they had all navigated it many times. Yet another advantage they had over the invading hordes.

Her eyes darted from red glowing dot to tripwire as they entered the old abandoned city. She was carefully avoiding it as she nodded to the Ranger closest to her. She seemed to dance around the pre-placed traps. Standing dead center of the city with her .357 magnum drawn, her eyes down as she peeked from beneath the wide brim of her ranger hat.

She watched as the very first ranks of soldiers filed into the town. She knew that her Rangers would know when to detonate the explosives. Lighting her cigarette she got the first glimpse of the nation himself, Caesar's Legion. She smirked before waving goodbye, the fire fight breaking out in her wake.

She had just made it to the old tavern outside of the city when she heard the first explosions. She smiled finding an adequate amount of whiskey in the run down watering hole. She took a swig and listened to the aftermath. The walls shook and dust fell from the wheel spoke chandelier. The legionaries that weren't killed in the initial blast scattered before retreating over the dam.

A month later one of her men brought news that Joshua Graham had been burned alive and cast to the bottom of the Grand Canyon. _Good Riddance, _ she thought to herself before taking a shot of her whiskey. _Maybe this won't be so bad after all._

**Author's Note: **It was difficult picturing this scene perfectly, but thanks to mein schatz, I was able to get it up and running. I know it's a little short but with how little information I had about the first battle of Hoover Dam, I think it came out okay.

Thank you, Old Glory, for your words of encouragement. I hope this story lives up to your expectations.


	3. Chapter 2: Ain't it a hole in the boat

**AN:** Warning! There is violence in this chapter. I tried to keep it the kind of violence you'd see in a PG-13 movie. No Gory Details.

I should've said this before, but I own nothing, but Callie.

**Chapter 2- Ain't it a hole in the boat.**

Five years had passed and Callie could feel the pecking of raids on her lands, by both the legion and lesser tribes. The constant travel between New Vegas, the Dam, and the Capital, formerly known as Shady Sands was also starting to wear at her.

She wished that she had someone to look up to, someone else that could relate to her role. That damn cowboy in New Vegas was the closest thing she saw nowadays. His constant smile, white ten gallon hat and cigarette hanging out of his mouth constantly, it just pissed her off. He and his boss seemed only to give just what they wanted to, and nothing more. That's why she got the dam- because it was convenient for them.

She took a deep breath as she headed up to Goodsprings from the Mojave outpost. Whenever she thought about the Father she never knew, she'd go there. Not there per se. Just in that direction. She was good at sneaking out of the outpost, her independent streak ever evident. She walked the center of the road, careful to avoid both the radscorpions and the giant ants that lay between the outpost and Primm. She may have a streak of Heroism in her, but better to save ammo, at least when she could.

She was finding it hard to keep the apathy at bay, just as her own soldiers were. She walked right under the overpass that connected the two parts of Primm as she continued her way to the destination. She knew animals wouldn't bother her as she moved into Gecko Territory. She had learned over time that animals just tended to like being around her. What she didn't know, was that Alfred had been the same way.

As she neared Goodsprings, the sound of voices filled the air. "We should take them out; no way the town could take us."

"They got that damned Securitron, you been to the strip, you know what they can do." She hid behind a nearby boulder listening as they seemed to walk right past her.

"But he doesn't have the same face; I doubt he's as set up. Joe's heading to size 'em up."

"Yeah, Damn glad that Trader ran here. Looks like some fine pickin's"

She shook her head, knowing the good folks down here, she knew they weren't likely to give up without a fight. She would have to let them fight their own fight though. She rerouted around town to her destination.

The Cross in the East shone brightly against the dark sky. This was a symbol of America's Greatness. Her mind often embraced what he had been like. She sighed as she started up the steps of the memorial as she had so many times before. A voice rang out from the bottom of the cross as her eyes fell upon a man. His drunken catterwalled rendition of Dino's "Ain't it A Kick in the Head" nearly brought tears to her eyes. _Boy this guy can NOT sing._

"Hey there, kid, what's got you so down?" She slid down the cross sitting, next to the stranger. His blonde hair peaked out from an old fedora. His vault suit was well worn and his handle-bar mustache seemed well maintained for someone so far from anywhere.

He opened his mouth to reply but an order rang out "Hold your tongue, Wastrel!"

She immediately drew her pistol. "Callie Jones, the mighty Caesar has marked you for death, and the Legion obeys." She rolled her eyes as the man beside her stood.

"F*** you!" He threw his whiskey bottle at the nearest Legionary.

"Ughhh," the man fell to his knees as the legion temporarily changed target. He drew a well weathered 10mm pistol and started shooting. However he was no challenge for those assassins.

The kid looked like he wouldn't survive until he could get a stimpack into his system, if she didn't intervene. Her fingers quickly and quietly moved to the combat knife she wore on her right thigh, a sadistic grin spreading as she buried the knife hilt-deep into the throat of the man wearing a helmet full of raven's feathers. Before he could even fall to the ground her .357 found a target in the man with a dog's head. She emptied the cylinder into him before he finally fell, and she grabbed his 9mm submachine gun. This left her with two wounded legionaries and a half-dead idiot. Not even Caesar knew that his order was just a death sentence for any assassin they sent.

The other two were more difficult as the one with the Trail Carbine was taking cover as he popped shots, and the other had another submachine gun. She hid behind the cross long enough to grab a quick dose of med-x and a stimpack. She may be a nation and thus unable to die until her people fell, but pain and injuries still needed to be attended to.

She took a deep breath as she aimed the weapon at the Prime Legionary, spraying and praying. Half of the clip was gone and only one assassin remained. She stayed low, keeping as much cover between her and the Centurion with the rifle. Her marksman carbine moved into place and she took a prone firing position. The night sky covered her like a blanket as she edged to a prime location. This was how she felt most comfortable, seeing the world through the lens of a scope. Finding her target she quickly dispatched the Centurion.

She quickly pulled a couple of stimpacks out to give the idiot on the ground. "You think this is an old Cowboy Holotape? Gonna run in be the hero and save the damsel in distress?" Her voice was filled with frustration at the stupidity people often showed.

His face was apologetic. "I can't help it, it was instinct."

She held her hand out to help him up. When finally she was face to face with the blonde she could see his deep azure eyes through his biker goggles. On the left side of his face there were the puckers of silver scar tissue on his tan skin. "Name's Callie Jones of the New California Republic." She gave his hand a quick shake. "Who're you and what brought you here?"

"Not quite sure? Took two 9mms to the noggin and woke up knowing nothing. When I saw this place something inside me just pushed me here."

"So you don't even know who you are?" She cocked her eyebrow incredulously.

"Well, this here paper calls me courier six. That's what I've been calling myself since I woke up."

"Well, six, looks like you're gonna need some help out there."

Author's Note: Sorry this took so long. I had basics in my mind but needed help with getting some of the details. Again I have to thank mein schatz, as well as Angel for their help.

Thank you also to the readers. Without you guys I may have given up.

There will be a bit more of the dark comedy that fallout is so well known for, in the future, as well as the darker aspects. And before I get remarks about Mary Sue's, I realize that she seems that way at first, but hold off for later chapters.


	4. Chapter 3: Throwing Down the Glove

**A/N-** Sorry I've been such a slacker with this story. I was trying to participate in Camp Nanowrimo and have been failing quite miserably so I'm taking a break and working on this, and have spent the last three days staring at a blank screen, just trying to start.

I own nothing but Callie, an Ultimate Edition copy of Fallout: New Vegas, and Hetalia DVDs.

**Chapter 3: Throwing Down the Glove**

_I'm the hero,_ he thought to himself. _She shouldn't be carrying me, should be the other way around._

He leaned on her shoulder still in bad shape after the battle with those god-forsaken legionaries. It was a good thing they were still really close to Goodsprings. "God you're heavy, you feel like you live on Brahmin burgers." She rolled her deep blue eyes behind her sunglasses. She seemed familiar, like he knew her or someone like her before. Maybe she would be able to help him regain his memory.

"Yeah, layer some fried Mantis on there and you almost forget about bacon."

He felt the needle enter his leg before he felt the painkiller take hold. "Maybe now you can help, this hill is pretty steep." He hadn't even noticed that they had trudged into town. The hill guarding the entrance to Doc Mitchell's house stood imposing before them.

She helped him move up the hill and sat him down on the porch before she knocked on the door. He was feeling quite nicely as he felt himself grabbed by both arms and dragged into the house.

"Didn't you just leave here this mornin'?" The older man asked as he was moved to the examination table.

"Sorry, Doc, This was my fault. No matter where I go it seems those damn Legionaries go running after me. I'll pay for his treatment this round."

"Well, I reckon that this is some pretty bad damage, looks like a few more 9 mm rounds are rattling 'round inside of you." The doctor grabbed the mask that held the nitrous oxide to knock him out. "We'll have you all fixed up by morning."

He awoke with the good-looking young red-head sitting next to him, cleaning her gun and drinking a Nuka Quantum. "Glad you're okay; hopefully you learned to play it safe."

He shrugged. "I guess could use a drink though."

Sighing, she helped him up. "I guess I could take you down to the saloon, after all this is kind of my fault."

The voice of a stranger rang from Trudy's saloon as they entered. "I'm done being nice…."

"We'll keep that in mind." She heard the familiar voice of the proprietor of the business.

He could feel her hand on his arm, as she shook her head. He was catching on quick that at the moment she wasn't going to let him act on his heroic instinct. The burly powder-ganger stalked out of the establishment, and he went straight to Trudy to offer his help.

His instinct was in full swing as he purchased a few provisions while getting the lowdown on Joe Cobb and the Powder Gangers. Razing the town to the ground seemed to be their plan if the good folk of Goodsprings didn't turn over some trader named Ringo. He would, in a brazen act of heroics, rally the townspeople.

Of course, being that he risked his life for her, even though she didn't need help, she would be dragged into it too.

**AN: **Sorry that this was so short. It's hard to get into this version of the courier. It has been asked if any of the other nations would show up. America himself is definitely part of the story, and Canada may show up. Other nations wouldn't really make sense because they're all dealing with their own problems. There might be a side chapter later with what some of the other nations are doing. Next chapter is going to definitely be longer.


	5. Chapter 4: Showdown at High Noon

**AN: **Hey there everyone. I'm glad to write for you all again. I have a new Beta-reader, Old Glory who'll be starting with the new chapter! YAY!

Disclaimer time! I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia or Fallout: New Vegas, though I would like to own (or be owned by) Prussia.

**Chapter 4: Showdown at High Noon**

The crows flew overhead, cawing, as the sun hit the high point in the sky. Ringo, Sunny, Trudy, Cheyenne and Six stood in front of the saloon, Callie posted on its roof. She took a deep breath watching the road through the scope. She had no intention on firing unless she was forced to. In other words only if Six or one of the others was close to death.

She saw six men running into town, three of them barely dressed, their eyes were eddies of psychotic energy. Lit Dynamite launched toward her new friend. Squeezing the trigger she caught it mid-air, while her friend took aim with his worn yet well taken care of pistol. She maintained watch for flying sticks of dynamite while the others fought directly with the men. It was a narrow view through the scope.

Finally between Six with his 10mm, Sunny and Trudy with their Varmint Rifles, and Ringo's .357 only one remained. She pulled the scope from her eyes as she heard the sizzle of a fuse whip past her head. Before she could react the blast knocked her from the roof, unconscious.

After Joe Cobb met his end all attention was turned to Six, the hero of the hour. "I owe you a huge favor. Here- these are technically crimson caravan funds. I'm sure they'll understand once I explain the situation." The trader smiled amiably at Six. "Oh and if you're ever in New Vegas feel free to look me up at the Crimson Caravan offices."

"Thanks, though a hero's action is his own reward." He said trying to decline the caps.

"Don't worry about it. You keep it." Ringo smiled before running off on his merry way, past the unmoving form of his new friend.

Six's eyes widened as he ran to her. She was burned and out like a light, though she seemed to be breathing. He picked her up carefully, strength being his greatest attribute, now that he was once again fit as a fiddle, and carried her to Doc Mitchell's house.

Barging into the older man's house, he laid her on the bed that he had become so familiar with. "Doc, we got a casualty." He shouted.

The older man sighed, "well, I guess we'll have to take a look." He looked her over before cleaning her wounds and bandaging her. "Looks like one of you has some pretty bad luck," the old doctor shook his head.

The girl stood in the remnants of the old town, which seemed to no longer have a name, filled with confusion. She was but a child alone in the wastes. She stared at the entrance to the underground cave. There were noises, loud ones followed by voices.

People emerged, and she hid behind the closest thing she could find. Her deep blue eyes started welling with tears. These people weren't like her. They felt different. So she did what any child would do when they're lost, lonely, and confused; she cried.

After a few moments a young woman stumbled over her. Her own confusion was clear across her features. After all, the war had wiped out everything, right?

The little girl looked up, her eyes glassy. "Poor thing," the woman spoke as she picked her up and carried her back home to the vault.

The man sat there, just where she had, waiting for her to awaken. He felt bad for dragging her into this, in spite of her protests. She had been out for hours, beautiful in her fitful sleep. He lifted the biker goggles to get more comfortable, and sighed.

She was different than the others in this town. He couldn't help but feel connected to her somehow, and he wanted nothing more than to help her. But what could he do, but sit here and watch as she was suffered unconscious.

"Dammit, I'm the hero!" He cursed softly, when an insane idea entered his head. He gently leaned over her, taking a deep breath. He would be her Prince Charming. Closing his eyes he gently pressed his lips to hers.

A crisp smack of flesh against flesh as her hand met his cheek, her eyes wide. "What the hell are you thinking?!"

She sat up, wincing in pain as the tight skin tugged where she had been burnt.

"I'm sorry, I was just…"

"Trying to be the hero?" She took a deep breath. "Because you haven't already got yourself in enough trouble that way?"

"I'm Sorry?"

She shook her head and got dressed before grabbing herself a med-x to kill the pain. "Well I should get back to Mojave outpost. I'm sure that Ranger Porn-stache is starting to worry."

**AN: **I wanted to end this on an inside joke. If you can guess who Porn-stache is you get a cyber hug.


	6. Chapter 5: My Kind of People

**Author's Note: **Wow three whole months since I've updated. I am so sorry! This chapter offers a little bit of light-hearted shenanigans that Hetalia is known for, though, next chapter will return to the more Fallout tone.

**Chapter 5: My Kind of People**

Primm was always one of her favorite towns, and she felt responsible for their situation. After all, the convicts that had taken over the place were from the NCR. She and Six just finished dispensing wasteland justice to the vermin that had imprisoned the town. There was a fire fight! Bodies littered the floor. Satisfaction was written clearly across her features. The town was safe from harm and the Deputy was free.

"Dude! You totally gotta do it. The heroism in your escape?! It was GENIUS!"

"No, I'm just the Deputy. I can't be the deputy without a sheriff?"

She leaned against the wall as she listened to the conversation.

"But, Dude, who're we going to get to be Sheriff? You'd be great at it!"

"It should be a hero, a brave gent like your self, but more of a homebody. We've got a couple of options. I heard the convicts talking about some guy in the correctional facility that was a Sheriff back in Cali. The other option is the soldiers across the bridge."

"But you might not be Deputy Beagle, anymore, ever thought of that?" She finally spoke, her voice rougher than she meant it to be.

"I'm sure my Deputy skills will prove valuable."

Six looked at her and shrugged. "Up to you," She smiled as she looked at him, walking away from the pair. _That guy is just looking for an easy paycheck…_ She went outside and lit a cigarette, sliding down the wall and looking up at the Mojave sky. This was just one more complication, one more thing to tear at her. She sighed as she heard the click of the Vicky and Vance's door and the flick of a lighter.

She looked up at Six. "What's your plan?"

"I'm gonna ask the NCR to take over. They already agreed to citizenship."

She could feel a flutter; her favorite place would soon be a part of her nation. "Shall we then?" She put her hat on, hiding her hair and put on her sunglasses. She didn't want Lt. Hayes to recognize her unless she absolutely needed him to.

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"You know we aren't exactly swimming in resources here. We can't risk this unless we have more troopers. Mojave outpost is a bit further down the old 15 if you can get them to send help I'd be glad to."

She sighed and rolled her eyes, turning to leave; she held the door open for Six, slamming it shut after him. _We're spread so thin. No wonder I'm always so tired. These people want us to help but we can't because we don't have enough soldiers…_

She stormed to the bridge, manned by a single NCR guard, sputtering curses under her breath. She turned to ensure that her companion was there as she grabbed his wrist. "Are you absolutely sure this is what you want to do?"

He looked at her and grinned bright and shiny. "Of course, Callie."

She jumped into the road below, dragging him with her. He landed just as perfectly as she did right beside her, his grin just as bright. _Damn who is this Courier Six?_ "We're heading that way," She pointed up to a distant silhouette.

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"I'll wait out here for now Six."

"Come on, why can't you come in?"

She rolled her eyes and sighed, wishing she hadn't used all of her Stealth Boys to sneak out of the Outpost. "Sure, but remember, they can't know who I am…"

"But Callie…"

"SHUT IT!" She growled.

He cowered a bit, almost catching the briefest glint of a memory: A man in green upset with him. The memory disappeared as quickly as it came. She sighed, "Don't worry if you need help, I'll jump in."

He nodded excitedly, as he opened the door. Major Knight was manning his post as usual and she listened to them speak as she went to look for a particular individual, while avoiding notice from others. Back in the corner, a soft-spoken trooper with blonde hair, and violet eyes, was working hard filling out forms. Technically he was a lieutenant and he was working on leave clearance for some of the troopers. She snickered softly creeping up behind him, still listening to the advancing conversation between Six and the major.

"Stop right there, Miss." The soft and authoritative voice stopped her in place.

"How did you know I was here?" She pouted.

"You're right foot squeaked."

"Dammit, Lieutenant Williams, you always catch me." The lieutenant was much like the courier in that she felt this odd kinship with him. She had yet to meet anyone else that felt so much like family. "I made a new friend on my latest excursion…"

He looked at her curiously. "He's a courier." Her tone was akin to a Kindergartener when they got home from the first day of school. "Wanna meet him?"

He looked down at the piles of paperwork and sighed, rolling his eyes. He couldn't say no to her. "Of course, Miss Callie."

She jumped for joy, her hat coming off and the mass of red hair tumbling down. All eyes were suddenly on her as she bit her lip sheepishly and a ranger with a massive mustache shot her a disappointed look. She grabbed the lieutenant's wrist and dragged him behind her around the wall of filing cabinets, coincidentally, just as Six had convinced Major Knight that this plan was best.

Lieutenant Matthew Williams of the New California Republic stood there his mouth agape. He took a deep breath, _It can't be him,_ he thought, _there's no way!_

"Hey Callie, who's this?" The man had a bright heroic grin.

"This is my friend Lt. Williams. Lt. Williams this is Courier Six."

The courier stepped forward and offered his hand. She looked at the Lieutenant. "Um, what's wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost."

The awestruck man shook his head, being brought into the now. "Sorry, Callie. He just reminded me of someone. I'm very pleased to meet you. So, Courier Six, do you have a name?"

"Sorry, can't remember it for the life of me. This here paper says that's my name so that's what I'm going by for now, at least until I remember otherwise."

_It can't be him…._

**A/N:** I needed to be able to get into the next chapter and who better to help than Mattie? He is so underappreciated by the other nations. The Cyber hugs go to Old Glory and Vect the Atoner.


	7. Chapter 6:Sittin' there wonderin'

**A/N:** Wow, two chapters in one night. Plus I'm working on a completely new prologue for an original novel. Prolific, neh?

**Chapter 6: You're sittin' there and wonderin' what it's all about**

For the first time in at least ten years the old nations sat around the round table. Canada, who should have disappeared before the Atomic War, had called this meeting. He was surprised that so many nations that had bothered to come. It hadn't taken much to get England to agree to allow the meeting to occur at his house, as his had been one of the least ruined, in spite of the flooding.

Most of the older nations looked worn and scarred. An irritable nation, with silver hair and red eyes called the meeting to order. Germany had been hit pretty hard, and would have died if not for the albino nation rising up once again to stand by his side. He slid right into the other nation's duties while he recovered; forced into seriousness when the war nearly decimated the world.

It was only the European Nations that had arrived, as China had cast himself into seclusion, and Japan had yet to recover from the years of "Natural" Disasters that followed.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen…" His severe Prussian accent flooded the room, as he shouted the room to order. So many of his friends were missing from this room; yet so many still remained. His Red eyes took a moment to view all the remaining nations. To his right, his now mute brother, Germany sat regarding the room, watching the other nations (he never fully recovered from the anarchist uprising in Munich). France his friend and enemy had managed to make the best of what was left (His people had turned to diplomacy once again). Hungary sat to the Prussian's left, once again returning to the stance and attitude of a warrior (the attitude he had long ago fallen for in spite of the many years that he feared her frying pan). England sat there his eyes still blood shot from the many years of weeping for his friends (The war had not only deprived him of the other nations that he regarded friends but also had built a wall where only a veil had stood). Russia sat there, his creepy smile intact (He had been through so many wars that this one seemed to run into the rest). Spain, Romano and Veniziano sat together trying their best to be their old cheerful selves (though everyone knew that it was a façade). Switzerland and Lichtenstein sat somberly (they're neutrality and order had been upheld, likely due to their place in the Alps). Sealand, in spite of the nation's small capital, had grown into a strong man once England had recognized his independence (he had become a strong ally to the older nation, willing to watch for trouble as he was given more 'land'). And finally his eyes rested on Canada, the one who had called them all there.

"It's good to see you all again," He started again. "We're here today because Canada has some news that he insisted he bring to our attention in person."

The blonde nation stood, taking a deep breath. He was quite glad that Prussia was presiding over these meetings now; otherwise he would likely still be ignored. "I think I found America."

There were gasps and talking amongst the other nations. He looked over to Prussia once again, who quickly silenced the room. "Order! If there are questions, wait for him to finish."

"Thank you. There are a couple of countries that have also sprouted up trying to take his place though. I have personally been watching over a young nation in secret, the New California Republic." Another brief murmur from the crowd was heard before he continued. "Also Caesar's Legion has grown as has a nation that was starting just before the war- New Vegas…" He took a deep breath, "but America doesn't remember. America Sleeps…."

********Hetalia*********

It took awhile for the uproar to settle. The albino nation's red eyes were agitated. "ORDER!" He finally shouted. "What we need to do is send someone to verify, Canada's claims."

"I volunteer!" Russia spoke up, his creepy cheerful aura intimidating the others.

France's lascivious voice spoke up. "I think it would be best if Angleterre and I were the ones to go, after all he and Canada were our little brothers."

England glared at the man, his dull green eyes temporarily sparking in warning. Had he been able to curse the man it was likely he would have.

France backed down as Canada's voice rang out. "I want to choose who should come with me! After all, France would simply take advantage of the situation, and I really don't think that England would be able to handle seeing him like this. He's already been stressed out by the loss of his friends."

England sighed in a mixture of sadness and relief. "I agree with Canada. I think that we should select someone who knows him fairly well, yet will neither take advantage of the situation or be truly bothered by it."

Canada nodded as Prussia spoke again. "Let us put this matter to vote. Should Canada choose someone who can complete the task of verifying that this individual is actually America?"

Ten of thirteen hands rose in agreement, Canada abstaining from the vote, with Russia and France being the only two to disagree. "Then it is agreed, then. By popular vote Canada will choose the nation to join him on this fact-finding endeavor. Who is your choice?"

The younger nation took a deep breath, his eyes scanning the room at the remaining nations. He seemed to be weighing the pros and cons of each choice. Finally after a few moments of deafening silence. "Prussia, you helped my brother in his revolution against England. You've always been there when either of us needed assistance up until the dissolution of the Kingdom of Prussia to the Republic... I would appreciate it if you were the one to verify that the courier is actually America."

The albino was taken aback. He looked to his mute brother, wanting to ensure that he would be okay in the case that he agreed. Germany nodded his bright blue eyes glistening. His voice crackled, little more than a whisper considering his ruined vocal cords. "I'll be okay."

Prussia nodded and smiled. "Then I'm going to head to the city of New Vegas, it's about where he was last seen and if he's the same old America, then that region would be the most in need of a Hero."

Little more was left to be said at the meeting and after dismissal the nations wished Prussia a good journey and good luck on his travel, the first nation from Europe to cross the Atlantic since the great atomic war.


	8. Chapter 7: We Bring the World to Order

**A/N:** Hello everyone. I'm glad that you enjoyed the updated Chapter 6. I wanted to let you know that there is a FULL conversation from the game included in this chapter. It is only because it will color almost everything that happens with Six. Also most of you will notice that there is a change in rating… This was by far the darkest thing I've written in my life, and this story will only get darker.

As Always I do not own Hetalia or Fallout New Vegas, nor am I gaining anything for the writing of this story. I am however releasing some plot-bunnies into the wild of the internet. RUN Be FREE!

**Chapter 7: We Bring the World to order**

It was close to midnight as the courier slipped out of the barracks alone. The ranger on the roof, Ghost, said that the lack of contact and the smoke from the settlement to the northeast was making her feel uncomfortable. He also had a bad feeling about the situation, and his uneasiness pointed East. He left his new friend behind in case he was right.

His moves were silent as he moved along Nipton Highway, though his wish to avoid notice was not heeded. His fingers gripped the weathered 10mm pistol, quickly disposing of the Convicts and Jackals awaiting unsuspecting travelers at the Nipton Highway Pit Stop. He was glad that he had Major Knight fix up his armored Vault-Tec Vault uniform and helmet. He was on a mission and wanted nothing to stop him.

The dust rose from the Salt Flats on either side of the road. Straying either way would mean certain death to most wastelanders. To his left were mutated ants as big as a horse, and to his right radscorpions, both having venom that is best avoided. One could be overwhelmed by the sheer inhospitality that surrounded him.

"Yeah! Who won the lottery?!" The man in an NCR correctional facility uniform exclaimed. Six was less than impressed that this robber was happily halting him. "Smell that air! Couldn't you just drink it like booze?!"

Six stood there, impatiently, awaiting him to finish his rant. As soon as the other ran off (in the direction of a radscorpion nest) Six moved cautiously. He saw burning tires and garbage upon entering the town. Nothing could prepare him for what he saw as he rounded the corner toward the town hall: Dozens crucified, hanging from what used to be Power poles.

An image flashed before the courier's eyes. Corpses were scattered before him: Indigenous men, women, and children, Hundreds of them, all over a misunderstanding and manifest destiny. A memory the he wouldn't shake, and it was as clear as if he was standing there at that very moment. He felt as though he could reach out and touch the crying infant still trying to suckle from his dead mother's breast. No, this wasn't right; Not at all.

A smooth, smug voice rang out, calling him to Nipton, Now. "Don't worry; I won't have you lashed to a cross like the rest of these degenerates." The man's gleeful tone froze Six in place, even as his heart quickened. A mixture of anger and fear flowed through him as the stranger, who his pip-boy identified as Vulpes Inculta continued. "It's useful that you happened by. I want you to witness the fate of Nipton, to memorize every detail, and then move on. I want you to teach everyone you meet the lesson that Caesar's Legion taught here. Especially any NCR troops you run across."

The blonde man paused a moment. _Remember, you're here scouting, eyes and ears, not life, _he reminded himself mentally before speaking. "What lesson did you teach here?" His anger still dominated his speech, though it was peppered by fear.

The man wearing a dog's head on his own either didn't catch or ignored the courier's tone. "Hmm, where to begin?" His ingratiating tone seemed to grate on Six. "That they are weak and we are strong? This much was known already, but the depths of their moral sickness, their dissolution? Nipton proves the perfect object lesson."

_Maybe I can use this lesson against them and put an end to these psychotic bastards._ Courier Six took a deep breath to gather himself. He knew if he could get the information to the right people, it would fan the flames against the legion. "What exactly happened here?" His voice was nearly as even as he had hoped.

"Nipton was a wicked place, debased and corrupt. They served all comers as long as they paid: Profligate troops, Powder Gangers, Men of the Legion, such as myself. The people here didn't care. It was a town of whores." Six shuddered as Vulpes paused; he felt that he would be ill. "For a pittance the town agreed to lead those it had sheltered into a trap. Only when I sprang it did they realize they were caught inside, too."

"You captured everybody?"

"Yes," he sneered, "and herded them to the center of town. I told them their sins, the foremost being disloyalty. I told them when legionaries are disloyal, some are punished; the others made to watch. Then I announced the lottery. Each clutched his ticket hoping it would set him free. Each did nothing, even when 'loved ones' were dragged away to be killed."

He could barely contain his anger, but he knew he wouldn't be able to complete his mission if he should fall. "You killed innocent civilians?" Six growled.

"Ha, innocent, hardly," his voice became reminiscent, "Cowardly, though. They outnumbered us, yet not once did they resist. They stood and watched as their fellows were butchered, crucified, and burned. One by one they stood and hoped their turn would not come. Each cared only for himself."

Six sighed, knowing that his best bet was to just say he'd do it, as much as he hated to give them such satisfaction.

"Then I bid you Vale, Until we meet again"

***********Hetalia************

The man looked up at the giant metal statues looming above him, his mind swimming in dark places. These were places he didn't know existed until his encounter at Nipton. He had no idea what to do. He took a deep breath, his right foot crossing the threshold. He was careful to avoid Sgt Kilborn, as he already decided that the man was already anxious enough.

The ramp to the roof of the barracks, Ghost's nest, seemed steeper than before. She waited for report. "What did you find?"

His brow furrowed, "those legion bastards got it." He felt a wave of nausea as he thought about what he saw. "I'm sorry."

"Were you the one to pull the trigger? Then there's no reason for you to apologize."

He nodded and leapt from the roof, landing neatly. All he wanted was some shut-eye hoping that there would be no nightmares of murdered masses.

XxXxXx End Chapter xXxXxX

**AN: ** I noticed that in Fallout the name of the person you walk up to is always there. Much discussion has occurred as to how that happens. I know most games give you that, but with Fallout it seems not just a game dynamic but something that you could possibly have in that world. Discussion within a small group of friends has come to the consensus that the pip-boy has almost a google glass kind of interface giving you your HUD.

_Auf Wiedersehn._ Until we meet again


	9. Chapter 8: And Jimmy Will Go To Sleep

**AN- **Good evening, loves. I finally sat down for some planning on the next few chapters and will have them outlined completely if not written by the time this is posted. On a sadder note, my poor X-Box has died, so for parts that I can't remember, I am relying on YouTube. *sad face*

**Chapter 8: And Jimmy Will Go To Sleep**

"YOU AREN'T ACTING VERY MUCH LIKE A HERO, SIX!" She slammed the door. For two days he had been in that room, lost. It had been a very boring forty-eight hours attempting to snap him out of it, after all Lt. Williams had left the very night he met the courier, and Ranger Porn-stache was not all too keen on letting her out of his sight without an escort.

She slid down the door frame, biting her lip. She was worried, not that she would ever admit it. Why should she get so attached to some guy? The door opened and the courier stood there, his stupid grin once again plastered on his face. "Let's get going, the trail's getting cold!"

***********Hetalia**********

"Hang on there traveler, you'll want to steer clear of this area. It's irradiated to high hell." The weather-beaten, middle-aged, African-American, trooper with an adventurous mustache stopped them.

"Then, why the hell are you still here?" The courier was more brazen then he had been before the temporary mental break.

"I was stationed here before the incident." The trooper started before going on to say that the Legion had been responsible for the deaths and fates worse than that befell all those that did not join that patrol.

Callie smiled slightly. "Don't worry, Sergeant Astor, We're here to help."

He sighed in relief "I want you to put down the troopers that changed."

The courier nodded, "I understand…" Turning away from the trooper, pain was wrought across his face. "Mercy Killing," he whispered. "If only mercy was available for me." He walked off drawing his weathered 10 mm as she drew her sniper rifle.

She passed him her stash of Rad-X and Rad-Away, "I'll head up to the ridge and watch your back."

The sergeant offered him an Advanced Radiation Suit. "This should help keep the radiation out. It was something we found a while back. I considered using it myself…" he paused wrought with emotion he was trying to hide.

He nodded "I understand, Sergeant. Callie, here's the plan: I'm going to clear out the ghouls and the other creatures starting from the bridge and going through the town. The radscorpions are going to be the toughest part of this. If you can take them with AP, that will make it easier. They're on the farther end."

She nodded before starting up the hill. "Be careful, Six." She shouted as she started to climb the ridge outside of town. It wasn't too far up, but enough so she could see over the town.

He watched the ridge from the small camp outside of town. Once she was in place it was time to move in. He took a deep breath. "Killing them is putting them out of their misery…" he reminded himself.

He readied his pistol and squeezed the trigger as the first ghoul ran at him blade in hand. "They're not human anymore…" He whispered. That same ghoul's head exploded dramatically as the bullet tore through its flesh. The corpse lay there as he reached into its collar and yanked the dog tag from the severed neck.

From the ridge she whispered softly, "c'mon you bastards. You see the suit, get where I can…" She inhaled sharply as the first radscorpion took the bait, entering the narrow view of her scope. The Armor Piercing round spun in what seemed to be slow motion as the radscorpion's shell caved in and the meat exploded from its underbelly.

The next two ghouls had yet to see him as he ducked into the shadow. Stealth was not in his favor but with their backs to him he could at least get one of them before the came running. The bullet was quick, bursting through the chest of the first one and nicking the other. A strange feeling overcame him, a melancholic sadism coursing through his being. He took out his knife as the ghoul he nicked ran toward him. His blade rammed the creature in the breast bone as it stabbed into his arm. He hissed in pain, tearing the blade out. His own combat knife was lost but two more dog tags were in his grasp.

A smile crossed her lips as she found her next target aiming for the base of the tail. Silent and deadly; as an elite unit of her troops said "the last thing you never see." The firing pin met the primer of the next round; the explosion within the rifle expelling the bullet and destroying the creature as it moved toward her companion.

There was a glint in his eye as the Glowing One neared him, preparing to release a burst of radiation. His blade flew straight and true as he launched it toward the now dying creature. With that his 10 mil was once again raised and ready to fight taking out the remaining as easily he had the others. This strange rush felt vaguely familiar, though he couldn't remember a time when he had experienced it.

It wasn't long before all the creatures that were out in the open were exterminated. Packing up her sniper rifle, she leapt from the ridge, landing neatly. Her .357 quickly found its way into her hand as she met up with him. He snapped as he heard the feet hitting the pavement behind him, his pistol pointing squarely between her eyes. He paused, a moment of confusion could be seen in his eyes before he lowered the pistol, "Sorry, Callie."

She looked at him cautiously before smiling, "No problem. Shall we clear out the buildings? It's a job best suited for two."

He took a deep breath, "Yeah, sure."

Nearly every house was boarded up or empty. Finally they reached the last house. She took a deep breath. She could sense one of her people were inside. Yes, her people- those others, when they forgot themselves also forgot her. They were no longer human, and no longer citizens. She looked at her traveling companion. "Be careful, there's someone inside and I don't want them to get scared."

She opened the door carefully her pistol finding its way home to her hip holster. "Hello?" She called as she entered. The house was dark, though she could smell gecko steak cooking in the kitchen. She walked through and found a ghoul standing there, in a private's uniform, cooking a steak.

He looked at the woman in surprise. "Don't you know it's dangerous here? You could end up like me."

"Private Kyle Edwards? It's good to see you're still… well." She gave a prize-winning smile that even Alfred Jones would have been proud of.

"Well? How am I well? I'm a fucking monster, a decaying corpse. Who knows how long until I become a shambler?" He sat down in self-defeat, placing his head in his hands forlornly.

His nation sat beside him, gently reaching for his hand. "It can be hundreds of years before you lose your faculties." Her voice was gentle, and matronly. "You're still a citizen of the NCR, a trooper."

He sputtered a moment. He felt warmed by her presence and her words. "I can't go back out there. I can't let them see me like this. They'll exterminate me like the others."

Six entered the room, and she halted him. "Kyle, why don't you head up to Ranger Station Echo? The unit up there is almost entirely like you. I can even work up the transfer."

His sense of duty was renewed, feeling as though he could take on the Legion. "I really appreciate that, ma'am. Who are you, though, that you can do these things?" He asked genuinely curious.

"Let's just say I have connections. You can call me Callie, though." She smiled brightly.

"Umm, Cal, what about the dog…." Six started.

"Kyle, we'll get you set up with some new tags when you get up there, I need those ones to tell Sergeant Astor that things were resolved."

He gladly gives her the id tags as she pulled out the map, pointing out the location of the Ranger Station. "Thank you again, Callie."

**A/N: Thank you all for your continued patience. I really suck with maintaining a schedule for updates. Every time I post I tell myself and all of you that it will be only a few days or a week, but I lie, for that I apologize. **


	10. Chapter 9: Bei Mir Bist Du Shoen

**The Chapter 9: Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen**

The woman stood there facing east, her blue eyes sweeping over the bay as the sun rose. Her Uncle mentioned that a peculiar man would be arriving today. The wind picked up making her trench coat and strawberry blonde hair shift as the ship came into view.

The albino wiped his mouth, yet again. In his almost 1000 years as a nation, he never got used to travel by sea. He was elated as land came into view.

She donned her best faux smile as she walked up to the gangplank watching. She could feel the other nation step onto her land. "Herr Bielschmidt, I've been waiting for you." She watched him.

His deep red eyes took her in. His German accent was thick "I presume you're one of Al's children?" The breeze blew his pure white hair, and he was dressed in a sharp black uniform. She recognized it from some of the old data files she found awhile back; the only differences a lack of a bright red armband and twin lightening bolts upon his collar. "He and I were very good friends, I sent some of my best soldiers to help with his revolution."

She rolled her eyes and her voice was serious, and mildly irritated. In fact she was slouching slightly; her hands were buried deep in her coat pockets, hiding the wrists completely. "I suppose you can say that; Rachel Deckard Jones, the Commonwealth, at your service. I am to ensure you have all the supplies you need and see you on your way." Her voice was less than enthusiastic.

"What's wrong? Miss him?" He sounded cocky; the façade he wore for so many years was back in place.

"Not exactly…" She frowned.

"Ah, this is the first time you've had an unknown nation on your soil. You've never been invaded, _Ja?_ It's natural to dislike the feeling…"

"That's not it either." She walked away from the ship.

He snorted, "Then you're unhappy helping? Why?"

Her eye twitched. "I'm helping because Uncle Mattie wanted me to. I hope that he's wrong and Alfred really is dead," she muttered.

"Why would you hope that? He was awesome, almost as much as me, and he was a great friend. We got into a lot of trouble together."

"He was a bastard who only cared about being the strongest nation in the world. It was him that caused this whole mess!"

The elder nation grabbed her arm, a dark look on his face. "That's no way to speak of your father!"

"Really, you know what happened before the bombs fell!" Her face bright red, and her voice loud. "Uncle Mattie was lucky he survived! Alfred's troops trampled over military and civilian alike! As far as I'm concerned he is no father of mine!"

The man stood mouth agape, though he could see how a younger nation could have such a stance on war. "I understand I'm sorry, mein kleine madchen. I'll get out of here as soon as I get everything off the ship."

***************HETALIA******************

It took a half an hour for him to completely remove all of his supplies from the ship. He was eager to get out of this place. It was best not to overstay his welcome. Checking the Microfusion cells, he moved to start his Prussian V13 Krieg Pferd, a rocket hover bike. It was the fastest semi-land based vehicle known to man at this point. He could get to Las Vegas… no, New Vegas in a matter of 36 hours if he didn't stop for more than four hours for sleep.

"Viel Glueck, schoene Dame. Auf Wiedersehen. " He bade her as he mounted the vehicle.

"Auf Wiedersehen, und Gute Jagd." She smiled softly. As much as she didn't want Alfred to still be around, she genuinely wanted nothing bad to come to this old and wise nation.

With that he took off, keeping as low as possible and near the roads. Canada warned him that straying too far from the roads would be more dangerous.

The irradiated countryside blurred on either side of him as he sped across the nation. Most of the once beautiful and majestic wilds were decimated by the radiation, and what remained was horribly twisted.

He stopped, around 3 AM near a city that howled far ahead of schedule but not able to make it any farther. He'd be spending his resting hours in the suburbs of Denver, the city of dogs.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX x

AN: I wanted to apologize for the lack of posting. No internet sucks. I'll update as possible.


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